A Rare Breed
by Mindy35
Summary: Elliot/Olivia, Olivia/Other. Post-ep for "Escape". Olivia and Elliot don't talk about the return of her ex and her getting taken hostage.


Title: A Rare Breed

Author: mindy35

Rating: K, all welcome

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made.

Spoilers: "Escape".

Pairings: Elliot/Olivia, Olivia/Other

Summary: Post-ep for "Escape". Olivia and Elliot _don't_ talk about the return of her ex and her getting taken hostage.

* * *

"So." Elliot pulled out the chair opposite her, tucking his sunnies into his breast pocket as he sat. "What should I ask about first? The part where you're partnered with your ex or the part where he gets you taken hostage?"

Olivia looked up from her breakfast, pausing mid-chew. "Neither," she told him before adding, "And that wasn't Andy's fault."

Her partner scanned the busy diner before turning his gaze back on her. "He was supposed to have your back."

"Don't start."

"And instead he puts your life at risk trying to get a shot off."

She eyed him as she chewed and swallowed. "Fin tell you that?"

Elliot didn't answer. He just turned his cup over as a waitress approached with a pot of hot coffee. "Bet he still managed to make a pass before leaving."

Olivia shot him a blank look. "How'd you know?"

"Any guy would," he muttered, nodding to the waitress then lifting the coffee to his lips. "He'd have to be an idiot not to."

"And I don't date idiots."

"You've made a few exceptions, Liv."

"Hey, you don't know what it's like out there."

"On the single's scene? Can't say I do."

She shook her head, reaching for her orange juice. "It's slim pickings, my friend, slim pickings…"

"So…" Elliot sipped his coffee then placed the cup back on its saucer, "wanna talk about it?"

"'Bout what?" she demanded round a mouthful she deliberately consumed in an effort to avoid his continued questioning. "The part where I'm saddled with my adrenaline-junkie ex or the part where I nearly get shot in the head?"

His gaze remained fixed on her face. "Either."

Olivia sighed and dropped her fork. "I came here for breakfast, Elliot, not to spill my guts."

"Right," he shrugged, "but if you can't spill your guts to your partner then who can you spill your guts to?"

"Nothing happened," she stated firmly, meeting his gaze with a mild glare. "There's nothing to talk _about_."

He reached for her juice. "We talkin' about Andy now or—"

"Both—" She grabbed the glass before he could. "Okay? Now, would you let me finish my breakfast?"

"Sure." Elliot nodded, watching her drink and deposit the glass back on the table. "But tell me this—" he leaned in, elbows planted on the tabletop, "if nothing happened then why're you eating pancakes slathered in maple syrup instead of your usual poached eggs on rye?"

She glanced down at her breakfast then back up at him. "Maybe after facing death, I decided to live a little."

"Maybe…" he mused, clearly not buying.

Olivia forked some pancake, pushed it through the syrup coating her plate, lifted it to her lips then stopped. "Okay," she said, lowering the fork again. "Here's something you wouldn't know. It sucks being single in this job. Especially as a woman. And it's not just the long hours or the awful crap you see. It's the way guys look at you, you know? Whenever they find out what I do, they either think I'm on a tear to lock up every man on the planet or I'm, you know…" she frowned, eyes back on her plate, "in it for the kink, I get off on it."

His brow crumpled. "Is that what Andy said?"

"No," she mumbled, head shaking slightly, "this is not about Andy. He disparaged my job, made a crack about women…that was all it took to remind me why I broke up with him."

"Plus he's a loose cannon."

"Right. And I already have my hands full making sure you don't throttle perps."

"Well..." he gave a shrug, "keeps you on your toes."

Olivia abandoned her breakfast and reached for his coffee, cupping it between both her hands. "Doesn't mean I didn't consider the offer," she went on, voice low and face pensive. "Even if it was short-lived, might have been nice…." She took a sip and licked her lips. "I mean…all we see in this job is the worst side of sex but…it can also be pretty amazing."

Her partner bobbed his head, stole her juice and took a large sip. "…'Course."

Olivia was silent a moment. She ran a hand round her neck, forehead furrowing. "From what I can recall, that is – it's been awhile."

Elliot smiled then answered, voice faltering, "You…deserve someone in your life, Liv." He returned her glass, emptied of juice then shoved the salt and pepper shakers out of his way, snagging a piece of pancake off her plate. "Someone who'll make you pancakes for breakfast that…" he munched distastefully on one corner, "that don't taste like mattress."

Her eyes widened at him. "They're wholemeal, non-dairy, low-fat."

He shook his head, throwing the remainder of his pilfered slice back on her plate. "You and your health kicks."

"And I have never in my life," she went on, sipping his coffee, "met a man who knew how to make pancakes."

Elliot sat back in his chair, dusting crumbs off his fingers. "I know how to make pancakes."

Her mouth curled up in one corner. "Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah," he boasted, face stretching in a smug grin. "Banana ones. Choc-chip ones. Blueberry ones. Even potato ones."

"Well…" she gazed into his coffee a moment before handing the cup across, "you're a rare breed, Detective Stabler."

He took the cup, looking undecided. Then, seeming to change his mind, Elliot sipped and replied, "So are you. Maybe that's why you haven't…" his hand made an indecipherable gesture in the air, "met your match." He shifted in his seat, adding as an afterthought, "Yet."

Her smile faded, gaze drifting away. "Maybe..."

"You, ah…" Elliot sat forward after a short silence, "you done?"

"Yeah." She got to her feet and pulled her jacket off the back of the chair. "Let's go."

Olivia counted out a few bills and shoved them under his coffee cup before weaving through the thick crowd behind him. At the door, Elliot reached for the handle but someone on the other side pulled it open. Ushering his partner out ahead of him, Elliot caught the look that passed between her and the man holding the door. His eyes contained a frankly appraising glimmer which resulted in a fully-fledged smile as she passed by. Olivia pivoted on the pavement, returning the smile.

Elliot exited, taking up his usual position at her side. "Think that guy knows how to make pancakes?"

She rolled her eyes. "Shuddup."

"We could ask…" he murmured as they stared into the breakfast rush after her retreating admirer.

Olivia just shook her head and headed off down the sidewalk. "Jackass…"

Elliot grinned and followed, elbow brushing hers as their strides unconsciously synchronized.

_END._


End file.
